Page 93 of Last Mile

We spent the rest of the walk to the bikes in silence. When Bishop handed me my helmet, I said, “Thanks.”

“It’s just a helmet.”

I smiled. “No. I mean, thanks for bringing me here today and letting me be a part of what you guys were doing.”

“You’re welcome. And I was glad to have you along.” He planted a soft kiss on my lips. “I always like having you with me.”

“And I like being with you,” I replied honestly. It was the truth.

Regardless of the reasons why I had originally started hanging out with Bishop, I genuinely enjoyed his company. At first, it had been more about friendship and now it was growing into something much more serious.

Although I knew we were on dangerous ground, I didn’t want to worry about it. I just wanted to enjoy the moment. But in the back of my mind, I knew my secrets couldn’t stay buried forever. You could only live a double life of lies for so long before it caught up with you and you had to pay the consequences. I just never imagined how hard that would be.

When we got home, I was physically and emotionally wiped. On the drive home, I’d had too much time to relive painful memories from the past of my father and some of Gavin. While I knew I should head on home, I didn’t want to spend the rest of the day alone. Part of me argued that I should go into work. That at the very least I needed to talk to Peterson about what I had learned so far about the Raiders.

As if he sensed the way I was feeling low, Bishop said, “Why don’t you hang around for a while? Stay the night. You can always get up early in the morning to go home before work.”

Normally, I would have been determined to deal with my problems on my own and not rely on anyone else to get me through. But I didn’t do that. Instead, I kissed Bishop. “Thank you. I’d really like to stay.”

He smiled. “Good.”

“You’ll let me know when you get sick of me, won’t you?”

“I doubt that will ever happen, but if it does, I’ll be sure to let you know.” As he unlocked the front door, he asked, “Are you hungry?”

“I thought you didn’t have anything in the house to eat?”

“I don’t. But I’ll see if Mama Liz does.”

I laughed. “I think I’ll pass for now. I really just want to take a hot shower and then go to bed.” Bishop didn’t argue with me that it was only one in the afternoon. Instead, he just nodded.

Without another word to him, I cut through the bedroom and into the bathroom. After turning on the water, I stripped out of my clothes and dipped inside. The emotions of the day soon overwhelmed me.

Placing my arms on the tile, I buried my head in the backs of my

hands and sobbed. The sound of the shower curtain opening startled me, and I whirled around. Bishop stepped into the shower. Swiping the tears away, I asked, “What are you doing?”

“Getting clean. What does it look like I’m doing?” He picked

up the bar of soap and started scrubbing himself for good measure.

“You don’t have to do this.”

“Do what?”

“Pretend so I can save face.”

“I’m just here taking a shower.” He stared pointedly at me.

“Unless you want to talk.”

Bringing my hands to my face, I moaned, “God, I hate myself for feeling this way.” As I peeked at him through my fingers, I added, “I hate letting you see me this way.”

Bishop drew me against his chest. “Don’t ever feel that way, Sam. I’m here for you no matter what. Today was a bad day for you.

It triggered a lot of long- buried emotions. I totally get that, and I totally get you having some meltdowns today.”

I rested my chin on his shoulder as I rubbed my hands along his broad back. “Even though I don’t want to believe you, deep down I know that you mean every word you say.”